That Pathetic Little Ant, That Woman
by lycanus1
Summary: Loki's true feelings towards the one he believes has stolen everything precious from him. **WARNING: AU. Rated for strong language and hints at slash**


**That Pathetic** _ **Little**_ **Ant, That Woman ...**

 **Warning:** contains strong language and hints at slash. _Not_ a Thor or Jane Foster friendly fic.

 **Disclaimer:** Everything recognizable belongs to Paramount Pictures, Marvel Entertainment & Marvel Studios (gods-damnit !) - though my gut tells me Loki, bless him, may well have his own ideas about that and will probably do what he wants anyway … No copyright infringement is intended.

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 **That Pathetic** _ **Little**_ **Ant, That Woman ...**

I loathe them. Feel nothing but utter contempt towards them.

 _Him_ , I despise. Despise for being a weak-willed, weak-minded, oafish bastard. A fickle bastard who betrayed me in the worst possible way. _He_ gave up on me and our relationship in a blink of an eye. In the space of three mere days, _he_ forgot everything which truly mattered. Claims _she's_ the one responsible for making him a better man, when I'd devoted most of my life doing exactly the same thing yet never gained any recognition for it. He "forgot" the centuries of loyalty and trust I'd willingly and implicitly bestowed upon him as well as my heart, body and soul. _He_ threw me and my love over as if it were nothing. As if _I_ were nothing, where once ... once I'd been everything to him ...

But her ? _Her_ ... Her I hate with every single fibre of my being. I hate _all_ that she is and all that she stands for. _She's nothing. A nonentity_. A base creature so self-absorbed and full of her own importance that she sickens me. And one who believes herself to be his equal and even dares to imagine she's my superior.

I hate the way she's come between us. Worming her way into his life as if she'd every right to do so, then stealing his heart in the mistaken belief that she was truly worthy of it. Robbing me of what was mine. What _I_ cherished. The one I adored more than life itself ...

The hate I feel for her is overwhelming. Almost equal to the rage that courses within me. Yet it can't even begin to compare to the pain or the devastation I feel. And I _do_ feel betrayed and deeply hurt.

I'm the God of Lies, the God of Mischief and I'm renowned for those traits. My reputation precedes me and I'm good at what I do. But now, for the first time in my life, my silver tongue's turned to lead. I can lie as easily as I breathe, but in this instance, I cannot lie to myself. I _can't_ deny the heartbreak I feel. The intense pain I now suffer because of them ...

Like I said, _she's_ nothing. Yet all I can think of is crushing her pitiful, scrawny, repellent form beneath my boot. Like the worthless ant that she is. To take pleasure in seeing the light dim from those non-descript, watery, terrified eyes; to see her small hands feebly try to fight against the pressure which rests upon that oh-so fragile neck; the sudden gasp as she struggles to breathe and then ... then the thrill of hearing the clear, beautiful snap of those delicate bones as they break into tiny shards beneath the weight of my boot.

I can't deny that the idea of killing her hasn't passed my mind. That the thought of her dying doesn't please me. _It does. Immensely_. I'd be a liar if I claimed otherwise. Nothing would make me happier than to see the life drain painfully away from her as she realizes _I'm_ the one responsible for that or see that oaf's bright blue eyes clouded with immense pain. To see _his_ heart break the way mine did when I lost my beloved. I just want _him_ to experience it like I did. To know how agonizing heartbreak can be ... the devastating impact it can have when you lose the one you love. Of how it ruins your life and ends up slowly, but surely, robbing you of it ...

Losing him to her, is probably reason enough to hate her, but there's more to it than that. It's a mere scratch to the surface of why I wish her dead.

Not only did she steal from me, the arrogant, whining bint dared to raise her hand to me. _Me_. I mean, I may not be of Asgardian royal blood, but I _still_ have the blood of kings coursing through my veins. And that surely entitles me to some respect, yes ? You'd have thought that _he_ would've somehow prevented it from happening or at least reprimanded her for her actions, for _her_ blatant disrespect ... That _he'd_ have recalled what I meant to him once. That he'd sworn _he'd always_ love me. But no ... _He,_ stupidly, allowed a mere commoner to lash out and strike a royal. A lowly serf with ideas above her station. One who thought she was well within her right to do so. Well, let me tell you that's something _she'll_ live to regret ...

But her worst crime ? The one thing I'll _never_ forgive her for or allow him to forget ? She robbed me of the one person who truly cared for me. The only one who made living in Asgard bearable and the most important person in my life.

 _My sweet, compassionate mother_. Brave, loving, gentle Frigga.

No, the reason why I hate that ghastly, snivelling Midgardian bint so much is that I hold her _solely_ responsible for the death of my beloved mother. The oaf may have brought her to Asgard, but it was her constant meddling in things far beyond her ken which ultimately led to my kindly mother's demise. That whining quim was possessed by the Aether and drew the Dark Elves into the palace. Instead of fighting alongside of our valiant Queen _she_ , being the useless, coy, simpering, whore that she is, cowered in fear. Shamefully hiding when _she_ should've been the one to fall ... to lose her life.

And now, that witless simpleton expects me to protect her. _Protect her_. When they both betrayed _me_ ? And failed _my_ mother ? Oh, believe me … I'll protect her alright. I'll make them both think that I mean to help them. That I'm _truly_ repentant for my actions. That I genuinely wish to atone for what I did … _Like Hel, I do !_ I've _no_ intention of protecting her. _Ever !_ My defence of her will be nothing but a mere, temporary illusion. Fleeting at best. After all, _I_ owe them nothing. Nothing.

No, I mean to make the pair of them suffer. For them to endure the same Hel as I have. The exact, same pain _they_ inflicted upon me. Yes, I could kill her. I could do it easily. In the blink of an eye. And I'd feel no remorse for it. None whatsoever. But why should I ? To grant her the easy way out. To do it quickly ? For her to suffer no lingering pain like my mother did ? After all, if I did that, if I killed her now, the finger of suspicion _would_ fall on me and he … _he_ would instantly blame me for it. And that would take all the sweetness out of it. The sheer joy of seeing him suffer and that would never do.

No, I'll bide my time. Plan everything with the utmost care so that no one will realize I'm the puppet-master until it's too late. And then, only then will I be satisfied. Oh, believe me, I've imagined her death vividly, in oh-so many ways. And each and every one of those deaths is far too good for her. Deaths that would only portray her as the "innocent" she feigns to be. A sacrificial lamb that would only make him love her all the more. And that's something I _won't_ tolerate.

Like I said, I _will_ bide my time. I'll sit here, quietly in my cell. Meekly. Outwardly playing the innocent whilst inwardly plotting her demise _and_ his ruin. To bring _him_ to his nadir as he brought me to mine. Because his betrayal, the way he callously forsook me … how _he_ unwittingly tore out my heart and stamped upon it as he dallied with his Midgardian harlot … turned me into this vengeful, vindictive, cruel individual that I am today. How his selfish, thoughtless actions deliberately changed me. Made me what I am. A twisted, embittered, scarred individual incapable of love and certainly no longer able to trust anyone. All the good that had once resided within me, all the joy, kindness, compassion died leaving nothing but a cold, emotionless shell. And that's all down to him. _Him_. Thanks to him, I'm rotten to the core and no longer capable of seeing the beauty of life.

So, yes … for now, I'm content to wait. To fool them into thinking I've changed. That I've accepted things for what they are. Because once I'm free – and it _will_ happen of that you can be sure of – I've scores to settle. And that isn't a threat but a promise. One I fully intend to keep and fulfil, if not for my own sake, but to avenge the one innocent affected by all this … the one person with the ability to make me still care. That's still capable of warming my frozen heart even now. My beautiful, caring mother.

And it's because of her, I do this. For I no longer care for myself, for _him_ or for Asgard. I no longer need, want or love him, despite what the stubborn fool still cares to think. No, all I now seek is payback and I believe the best way to obtain it is to lull them all into a false sense of security. To make them believe everything is fine. Is idyllic. And once that's achieved, that's when I'll make my move. Striking at all they hold dear with all the swiftness of a Midgardian cobra. With deadly precision.

For the best way to break her and to ruin him is through insinuation, manipulation and seidr. And no matter how clever they believe they are, _they_ will never realize their fate until it's too late.

I mean to destroy them. To annihilate all the love they feel towards each other. To shatter their precious love irrevocably until they can only look at each other with mistrust, anger and animosity.

I will make her barren. For _his_ fertile seed to fall upon a wasteland, never to take root. That each and every attempt they make to bear a child be fruitless, forcing him to turn to others to provide a much needed heir for his lying bastard of a father's bloody throne. And as _he_ fucks his way through all the fair maidens at court, I will ensure he sees _exactly_ how inadequate _she_ is. How _unfortunate_ it is that his beloved's womb is as dry as the desert. That her _fragile_ body hasn't the strength enough or is worthy to take and accept his seed, never mind carry an heir to term.  
And I shall play my part to perfection. The now "redeemed" sibling so full of understanding and sympathy, yet also practical and eager to point out a crown prince's duty to his people and the vital need to provide an heir. And never let it be said that the oaf doesn't take his duty as Odin's son and heir seriously or that he'd deny his people their much longed for heir. Because _I_ know that idiot's mind as well as my own – _he'd_ do almost anything, everything, for Asgard, even denying himself his own happiness and dreams … Trust me, I'm counting on it and _will_ play on his ridiculous sense of honour and duty as skilfully as a fiddler uses his bow.

I've no scruples when it comes to righting what I believe is wrong. And if it means obtaining justice for my mother and the betrayal I suffered, means I'm unscrupulous and immoral, I no longer care. I don't give a shit if the love she feels for _him_ withers into nothing when any illusions I cast within her sight show _him_ taking his pleasure with another. That _she_ sees _him_ fucking a pretty maid in one of the palace alcoves or drunkenly rutting one of the comely serving wenches in the Great Hall. If anything, I will _revel_ in her agony as I watch her slowly die on the inside as she's forced to see the one _I_ loved cause her the _exact_ pain I endured …

And if I'm lucky, if she's like the rest of those Midgardian sheep, she'll be overwhelmed by it all. That he actually _dared_ to betray her _and_ their love in such a sordid manner. And if there's _any_ justice left within the Nine, her suffering will become so great that she can no longer endure it. The pain will eventually lead her to take the coward's way out … that she'll take her own life. An action _he'll_ regard as dishonourable and weak … an undeniable reflection of her true character.

I plan to make that scheming, opinionated, sanctimonious bitch pay. To make that pathetic, little ant aware of the repercussions of crossing me and depriving me of the ones I love. I _will_ make her rue the day she ever met him. Make her deeply regret ever laying eyes upon him or even think herself worthy of being in his presence, never mind residing in his bed and taking _my_ rightful place in his heart.

It may take a while, but time is plentiful when it's all you have to occupy yourself with when you're caged in a tiny cell. And I mean to make full use of it to ensure all I crave - the vengeance I desire - comes to pass when I eventually regain my freedom. After all, payback, when well-crafted, can truly be sweet.

And those duplicitous fools will soon come to learn that a Frost Giant's revenge is _always_ served cold …

 **FINIS**


End file.
